You're Standing On Our Necks
by Gojirob
Summary: Daria Morgendorfer finds herself with the unwanted responsibility of leading a school experiment, and with an unusual house guest, a girl just released from an asylum. The cynic of Lawndale meets the future protector of Sunnydale, and weirdness reigns.


**You're Standing On Our Necks**  
by Rob Morris

**LAWNDALE, FALL, 1996**

Outside the high school, Jodie Landon approached a girl who wasn't quite a friend, but who on the balance had her respect, at least moreso than most others she knew.

"Hey--I'm sorry."

Actually trying to be full-on friends with Daria Morgendorfer was something that Jodie had neither the time nor the patience to attempt. That was something of a shame, for there were very few others in their intellectual or academic league, as the bulging, bloodshot eyes of teacher Tony DeMartino would surely attest.

"You know--just because you and your parents didn't want this assignment doesn't mean I did want it. In fact, it's the last thing I want."

Daria almost never raised her voice. But if one were to take from that she never got angry, this would be a par excellence wrong assumption.

"Don't you even want to hear why I asked that you be the one to head this up?"

"Is it because you and I had an ethical and economic dispute over the school's soul-leeching contract with Ultra Cola?"

Jodie shook her head.

"Looking back, I wish you had headed that one off. And that's exactly it, Daria. When all that happened, you were the only one who saw that it would go badly. We need a thinker in that job. Who was I going to ask them to give it to? Your sister? Brittany? Kevin? Or--Up-Chuck?"

Daria rolled her eyes.

"I knew two guys back in Highland that would have been perfect for the job. Their mere placement in that position for five minutes would have fomented a rebellion the likes of which we've never seen."

"Extreme anarchists?"

"No. Extreme idiots. Jodie, how can I make this any clearer? I really don't want this job."

Jodie began to look a bit arch.

"You KNOW why they offered it to me first. Well, I don't need to have any past wrongs redressed. This experiment is fine for elementary school kids, but does anyone really think it's not too late by the time high school comes around? This is just Ms. Li trying to score with the state education department by taking on the expanded version of this program."

Again, Daria's voice never went up.

"So naturally, you made sure it was offered to me, and that they first called my mother, who is as likely to let me out of this as Trent Lane is to win a Grammy."

"I'm sorry. But sometimes, the lifeboat is just too small. Daria, I've encountered racism. Though in this town, it usually takes the form of everyone wanting to be my friend to show they're not. But on a day-to-day basis? The only oppressors I deal with are two lovely people who are bound and very determined to plot every inch of my future without an ounce of input from me. Plus--I saw this creepy afterschool special about this kind of thing. Power might go to my head. I don't think it will go to yours. Certain people just know how to do the right thing when the time comes."

Daria looked less angry, but still tried one last time to ditch this duty.

"You know, I've never once glad-handed you. If anything, I've probably given you a harder time than certain jocks, cheerleaders and fashion queens. I've taken it for granted that another so-called 'brain' could deal with the Ph level of my usual alienating conversations."

Jodie smiled.

"But don't you see, Daria? You're almost the only one here who probably sees me first and foremost as an intellectual peer."

Jodie walked off, and a frustrated Daria muttered under her breath.

"This is what I get for only discriminating against Quinn."

* * *

Meeting with Jane Lane as she emerged, Daria quickly saw in her friend's conversation the wholesale insalvageability of the week to come.

"Well, they've managed yet another coup de stupe. Not only will the school be conducting one of those anti-prejudice programs, but the state has convinced Ms. Li--probably with a bribe of a satellite-based student thought-monitoring system--to take it all up a notch. Now, the 'up' group in the experiment will not only lord it over the 'down' group, but the 'ups' will have a single lawgiver. It's supposed to be a lesson in not following ringleaders, or some such. So Daria? What power-hungry future despot do you think they'll tap?"

Daria stopped, and then pointed at herself. The look on her face made Jane wince as she realized the rest. Knowing her friend as she did made things all the more awkward. Not that Jane didn't try and gently make things more so.

"So, you wanna talk about it when the furor dies down?"

Daria looked at her.

"If you say anything about taking dictation, washing brains, lemmings or sheep, know that by doing so you will have used up all my residual guilt over Tom."

"Well, I don't wanna go there. I may be able to stretch two or three big favors out of that. But why is this bugging you so much? Don't you see the potential in all this?"

Daria resumed their walk.

"That's just it. I see all too much potential in this. I mean, UpChuck makes my skin crawl and Kevin is only just past crawling, but when Ms. Barch comes down on them, I still get a twinge of sympathy."

"You? Sympathy? Girl, this is going to get you dissected, you know that."

Daria nodded.

"But that's part of my point. She's got issues with her ex, so those two and other guys have to deal with it? I like people to take on the grief they've earned."

"Something you have no problem with making happen."

"Thanks. But what am I going to do with this situationally unlimited power? Order the Fashion Club to undergo conscience implants? Demand that Brittany and Quinn use the brains I know they have? Force Kevin to realize the long odds of making it in professional sports?"

Jane's mouth twitched a bit.

"Even if you can give those kinds of orders, I have to doubt they'd take."

"Exactly. In the end, all I'll be is another dictatorial jerk making everyone feel like nothing for not living up to standards they themselves had no part in setting. And since when has Lawndale High or for that matter, the world, ever wanted for one of those?"

Jane sighed, and then spoke as they sighted her house.

"I have to meet Trent and judge whether Mystic Spiral should take on a new member. Trent doesn't like judging people. And really, I wouldn't trust him to judge an apple-pie bake off."

Her last words hit Daria in an unexpected way.

"But frankly, I'd trust you to handle the whole country, Daria."

* * *

Jane took some evil amusement in the stunned look of her best friend as she wandered off. Inside, her brother Trent was up early. It was only three-thirty in the afternoon.

"Too much caffeine?"

The slow-talking musician shook his head.

"Hi, Jane. The new dude for our band is here. He's a real professional. He knows how to play almost two whole chords on his guitar."

"Some kind of prodigy, huh?"

"Oh. There he is. In our kitchen. Having food. Wonder where he found it? Maybe I should ask him."

"Why doncha let me, Trent?"

"That's cool."

Munching down some instant oatmeal, the new guitarist looked up.

"Oh, hi. You're Trent's sister, right?"

Jane looked in the bowl.

"Aren't you supposed to pour hot water on that?"

"I'll just drink some later. Jane, right?"

"Right. And you are?"

He extended a hand.

"Danny Osbourne. But my friends call me Oz."

Jane sat down as he kept eating, letting thoughts of Tom flow out for the first time in a long time.

"Can I be your friend?"

* * *

The Morgendorfer House was a flurry of activity, and some small portion of it was even relevant. Quinn and the other members of The Fashion Club were departing with their usual regard for others.

"Mom, Dad, we're going. Please don't embarrass me or delay us with restrictive questions about where we're going or how much money I might spend."

Daria's feelings to the contrary, their mother Helen did not favor Quinn to the degree that she would just let that statement go.

"Quinn, consider yourself both embarrassed and restricted. Now, where are you going?"

Sandi, the shallow, vain, elitist Fashion Club President was the sort of person that Helen was very much afraid Quinn would fully become. She was also Quinn's bitter if unspoken rival.

"Mis-us More-gen-dorf-er, it is critic-al-ly impor-tant that we reach the Mall, and quic-k-ly. Our Club's accreditation certification is at stake."

Helen was never prepared for this.

"You've got to be kidding me."

A familiar voice cried out just then.

"Blast it all to purple Hades!"

Helen turned towards the source of her husband's voice.

"Jake! What is it now? I'm trying to talk to..."

But when she turned back, Quinn and her friends were of course gone.

Helen briskly walked towards Jake in the kitchen.

"Jake, our houseguest is trying to sleep. Now what is the problem this time?"

Her sometimes nervous, sometimes angry husband now seemed merely depressed.

"Helen, it's terrible! My--my father is coming over in a few days."

For a bare moment, Helen was going to tell him how his father couldn't possibly be coming over. But then, she suddenly couldn't think of any reason the disagreeable old man couldn't do just that.

"Jakey, I know how he makes you feel. I don't like him much, either. But we have to be fair. In fact, I can't remember the last time he came over. Or--that I saw him. But he is family."

Jake folded his arms.

"He's the devil! What we need is a devil-killer person."

Helen let it slide.

"Maybe one will happen along, dear."

----------------

Daria passed the Fashion Club on her way home, but neither paid the other much if any attention and this was not altogether unusual.

Cottony soft-spoken Tiffany spoke to the business at hand.

"I just can't believe that we have a chance at full affiliation with all the California chapters. It's like a dream that's come true."

Staci, who, much like Quinn's father, often had trouble controlling her nervous energy, added in. "We simply cannot blow this opportunity. Quinn, who did they say is judging our fitness to serve?"

A Quinn who, of late, found that hanging around her sometimes-airhead friends forced her brain into unwanted service, was about to walk into a trap set by Sandi.

"Some girl who won for Fashion Queen Of Southern California last year. I didn't catch her name. But I know we can handle her. Easily."

Sandi hid her grin and folded her arms as they reached the mall dress shop they frequented.

"Qu-inn! I can-not be-lieve you set us up like thuis! Don't yew know who our judge is? We had better not fail because yeww couldn't be bothered to remember her name. Be-cause the-re she is!"

The dark-haired Fashion Queen walked up and looked them over. She sighed.

"Those looks are almost last week. You're already starting out with one demerit. Alright, start purchasing. The burden on you is so heavy."

Sandi nodded.

"As you desire. And may I say what a su-preme ho-nor it is to be judged by the one and on-ly..."

Quinn's blood froze as the Judge was identified by name. She was in deep trouble, and Sandi knew it.

"...Cordelia Chase?"

* * *

Daria reacted to her mother's first piece of news.

"Granpa Morgendorfer's coming over? Ya know, Mom? I can't even remember what he looks like. Why is that?"

Daria's question was for once free of sarcasm, but it was also one for which Helen had no answer.

"I just hope he and your father get along, this once. Of course, I've never really heard them argue. Oh, well. Listen, Daria. We have another visitor. My friend Joyce dropped off her daughter. She--was on a kind of sabbatical, and now she's just here for a week. She'll be bunking with you. I'm sorry for this, but she said Quinn's room made her sugar rise."

"I like her already. But who's this Joyce? I never heard you mention her before."

Helen shrugged.

"Well, of course she's my friend. My close friend. I think. Our names were in each other's rolodexes. That has to mean something."

As Helen nervously rechecked her rolodex, Daria decided to deal with her roomie head on. There were any number of ways to ditch her, should the need arise.

"Hey. I'm Daria Morgendorfer."

The girl did not look like an outcast. In fact, she looked like she could out-Quinn Quinn, if she felt like it. But underlying that was a feeling that she could also out-Daria Daria.

"Buffy Summers. Sorry to invade your space. My Mom gave me all of no notice on this trip."

Daria was finding nothing to dislike, thus far.

"Then she's a Mom, alright. But why did she drop you here?"

"Well, after my Dad and Mom picked me up, they asked me if everything was hunky-dory again. I said it wasn't, and that I resented them. They said I should thank them for their concern. I didn't feel like doing that."

Daria felt a bit like a mirror of some kind was in play.

"You mean after your sabbatical."

Buffy looked up from reading a magazine.

"Sabbatical? That's my euphemistic Mom. No sabbatical, Daria. My folks decided I was out of control. So they locked me away in a mental health clinic for six weeks."

Daria started to speak.

"Wow, that's..."

After two minutes, Daria realized she was lost for words. So she turned on the TV, and Buffy kept on with her magazine.

*See a suburban High School that sits atop the mouth of Hell Itself...next, on Sick Sad World.*

A while passed before Daria spoke again.

"Are you going to sleep on the floor like that?"

Buffy nodded.

"A firm floor beats walls that bounce."

Daria tried again to approach the subject she wanted to ask about, but couldn't.

"Ummm...yeah. Listen, why did you choose my room instead of Quinn's?"

Buffy looked at her.

"I'm crowding you?"

"No. It's just that you look like someone who might appreciate her choice in living space."

Buffy sat up.

"You mean a vain, oh-so-popular, cheerleaderish, promqueenish, spends whole years choosing and buying wardrobe, couldn't-care-less type?"

Daria was starting to sense a kindred spirit. But in her typical way, she didn't necessarily regard this as a good thing.

"Can I use the 'you said it I didn't' defense?"

Buffy shrugged.

"Whoever said it that was me. That was all me, all the time. That was who my parents wanted back, when they signed me into that place. Their perfectly happy daughter, who only had to be lectured about homework--and not too often, even then. But that was before. Maybe I wouldn't go for your choice in decor--but Quinn's isn't for me, anymore. That's last year's girl."

Daria simply asked. Darting around a subject had never been one of her strengths.

"What happened? Why did they do it?"

Buffy now sighed, and shook her head.

"I changed. I learned the world wasn't exactly the place I thought it was, and it got to me. I'm not saying my folks had no cause to be concerned, or that I was any kind of saintly girl. I think what bothers me the most is the whole way I got sent there."

When Daria didn't interrupt, Buffy kept on.

"See, at my old high school, the gym burnt down. I was involved, but not in a fire-freak kind of way. A gang invaded this dance we were having. Like everyone else, I tried to get away. But maybe I tripped something or other, cause the fire started after I left. The police don't arrest me, and the school expels me for fighting with one of the gang-bangers. But somehow or other, it gets locked into my Mom's head that I'm lying. It wasn't too long after that I started having night terrors involving-- that gang of kids. I saw them as vampires, and before I knew it, I'm in outpatient therapy. Two weeks into that--we were driving through the gates of the clinic. I thought about running, but just about everything I had said or done so far had made my folks tsk and sigh all the louder. So I stayed."

Daria was still thrown somewhat by all this, and it showed.

"But you were released. You---were released, right?"

Buffy seemed to understand.

"After six weeks. But not because my time was up. My folks found out that the psychiatrist who advised that I go to the clinic was the principal shareholder in the company that ran the clinic."

Daria added on in her way.

"So your stay was cut short not by the end of your mental conflict, but by a conflict of interest. I wish that surprised me more. I wish almost anything could surprise me."

Buffy was looking weary, and laid down as she kept talking.

"Trust me, Daria. This world still contains a lot of surprises, and none of them are anything you'd ever want to know about, given the choice. Hey. Your mom said she could get me into your school for the week. Could you take me there, tomorrow?"

"Listen, Buffy. I'll be happy to help you out. But I better be honest with you. Around my school, I'm known as a brain. Combined with my outlook on life, that doesn't make me very popular. Actually, it very nearly makes me least popular."

Buffy yawned and turned to go to sleep.

"Nothing wrong with a brain, Daria. If I'd learned to use mine sooner--things might be a lot different for me now."

It was only early evening, but Daria suddenly felt very much tired.

--------------

Later that same evening, a fuming Helen greeted Quinn upon her return.

"Hi, Mom. Great night, isn't it?"

"Quinn, the credit card company called. They were concerned because of the high level of purchases someone was making. They asked me if our cards were stolen. I almost wish they had been. At least with a thief I could cancel the cards and know it was all done with."

"Mo-om! I *had* to show the head of the California Fashion Club Consortium that I was for real when it came to my willingness to purchase only the best."

Helen was not going to be put off in this instance.

"Quinn, I called the dress shop and canceled your delivery along with the purchases. Do not pull this again. Especially not this week. Not with Granpa Morgendorfer coming over."

Quinn's face almost collapsed, while remaining cute.

"Mom, how could you? And why is Grandma coming? Did Dad have another heart attack?"

"I could because I could and you can't. And Grandma Morgendorfer isn't coming. Just Granpa Morgendorfer."

Quinn's near-tantrum seemed to evaporate.

"Mom…are we talking about Dad's father?"

Helen nodded.

"Yes, Quinn. Now in the future, use of the credit..."

"Mom, wait. Granpa Morgendorfer can't be coming over. He's..."

"Quinn, don't interrupt. Now, from now on, you will leave your credit card with me and I will only grant it to you...are you listening to me?"

Quinn shook her head.

"Mom, Dad's father can't be coming here. He just can't!"

"Quinn, I *know* he's a pain, and he likes to belittle your father, and that you think old age is a fashion statement gone wrong. But in fact, he is coming, and we'd all better brace ourselves."

"No, Mom! You don't understand. There's no way he could be coming here! IT'S impossible!"

Helen pointed upstairs.

"You know, Quinn? At least Daria lets me finish before blowing me off. Go to your room. And don't dream of ducking out when your grandfather arrives."

Quinn seemed decidedly less chipper as she went up. She went in her room, locked the doors, locked the window, and turned the radio on just a bit. She looked in the mirror.

"He can't be coming. I don't know everything. But I know that."

And as the world closed around her, Quinn wondered how her sister could deal with actively thinking all the time.

* * *

Jane had meant to call Daria, but then recalled that with Tom away for the week, Daria was likely preparing for her very unwanted assignment. Besides, she had another companion to take to the pizza shop.

"So. How is it, jamming with my brother and the rest of those in the slow lane?"

Daniel 'Oz' Osbourne ate his pieces slowly.

"Well, they do know how to hold their instruments. Proper stance is something very rare nowadays."

Jane took the opening.

"Kind of like musical talent, huh?"

Oz chuckled.

"I don't choose bands because of their talent. Mystic Spiral--they should really change that name--may just be something I want to be a part of, for now."

Jane sort-of sighed.

"Oh. Well, not choosing bands for their talent certainly helps Trent's cause. So if you stay, it'll be for kicks?"

Oz leaned over the table and kissed her.

"No. I also plan to hit on this guy's sister."

She smiled.

"Hit me. Please."

* * *

While Helen looked over some papers in the kitchen, Daria came back down and made a sandwich. Helen noticed this, and tried to strike up a conversation.

"How was your day, dear? We missed you at dinner."

"My day was fine, Mom. At least, when you consider that I have an unwanted roommate---"

"Daria, I'm sorry about---"

"---who happens to be a nice enough person."

Helen smiled a little.

"I'm glad you two are getting along."

"Why wouldn't we get along? After all, she's all relaxed from her sabbatical."

Helen almost seemed to gulp.

"Yes, well. She wasn't in there for being violent. I'm told."

Daria noticed the cringe in her mother's face, and moved on.

"And who can forget the other fine part of my day. My mother and a classmate that I respect and otherwise like conspired with a principal that me and a series of potential grand juries have questions about to give me an assignment I'm pretty sure you all knew I would hate."

"Daria, conspire is a strong word. I just took this opportunity to help improve the look of your high school transcript."

"Mom, my college of choice will look at that transcript for all of five seconds."

Helen folded her arms.

"And those five seconds will be among the most important in your entire life. Besides, I still object to the word conspire."

Daria half-frowned.

"It was hatched in secret. It was decided in secret. Somebody who didn't want the job targeted me and had you called, knowing that once you heard about it, that would be that. I was only told about it after the classmate in question had sandbagged the two people I could try and appeal the decision to. Objection Overruled, Counselor."

"If tricking you is what it takes to get you a shot a better college, then I accept my censure. Daria, I'm concerned about the future of my children. So sue me."

Daria looked at her.

"Ok. So when does Quinn get tricked into improving her grades?"

"Oh no, you don't. If you think I'm favoring Quinn, I'll have you know I'm forcing her to turn in her credit card for misuse."

Daria closed her eyes, then opened them.

"And when do I turn in my card?"

"Errr...you don't. You haven't misused it. Although, that would show Quinn that I'm being firm and fair."

Daria got up from the table.

"Actually, it would only show her once again that you can't bring yourself to punish her without also punishing me. You know, Mom? You always complain about the favoritism Grandma Barksdale shows Aunt Rita. So what do you do? You construct a junior Aunt Rita. Don't worry about Buffy Summers. She and I have a lot in common. Documents signed for our own good, firmly and fairly behind our backs."

* * *

Left lost for speech as Daria walked away, Helen finished her work and went to bed. To her surprise, a for-now coherent Jake was not supportive.

"Aww, Helen. Even I could have seen that her asking about turning in the card was a trap. And she's right. You do punish her along with Quinn, like your mother used to do with you and Rita. My God, the girl's not cynical enough? She's not Quinn, and she's not going to be, anymore than I am ever going to be a man in my father's eyes."

"JAKE! We need to show a united front on these things."

But the nerve-ridden man wasn't backing down.

"No. You're not scaring me with that. Because, Helen, the one thing I fear more than making you upset with me is on his way here. I yield a lot of things about the girls to you, because I know better than to think I can handle it. But if you keep handling Daria like this, she'll be as deep in her pessimism as I usually am in my cluelessness. Listen to me, honey, because right now I'm too upset to even fall apart."

Very concerned for the man that she really did love, she took his hand.

"You're not clueless. Jakey, that old man just left some scars that I keep hoping you'll get over."

He shook his head.

"We both know that's never gonna happen. I'll be a maker of weird pasta dishes and chaser of small animals and a hopelessly bad consultant till I die. But I can be happy in all that, because I have you and the girls. At least until tomorrow."

Before they somewhat more calmly lay down to sleep, Helen mentioned an oddity with Quinn. And in the moment just before he fell asleep, Jake realized that his younger daughter was absolutely right. It was impossible for his father to come over. And yet at the same time he surely was coming over. Jake's dreams were all nightmares.

* * *

At school the next day, Quinn was subjected to a lecture that was the inverse of her mother's the night before.

"Re-tur-ned? Yew all-owed your moth-er to re-turn your purch-ases? We are re-quired to show how good we look in all those clothes af-ter school, Qu-inn. Ms. Cordelia Chase will not be hap-py with this."

Tiffany frowned along with Sandi.

"Gee, Quinn. This could affect our accreditation. Do you want that?"

Staci seemed only barely more sympathetic.

"Quinn, this isn't like you. Couldn't you have gotten her to keep at least some of the clothes?"

Tired, nervous and very irritable, Quinn found a use for her currently overactive brain.

"Sandi, until such time as you think that our Fashion Club is good enough without the stamp of some outsider, I will be forced to resign. If we try too hard to please, then we are wannabes, not the cream of Lawndale High's fashion elite. I'm sorry that you don't think more highly of the club you founded."

Looking a lot like she was going to freak, Sandi walked off, and Staci ran after her. Tiffany asked a question, as always in a voice that made one wonder whether she and Trent Lane were separated at birth.

"Quinn. Is anything, like, wrong?"

Tiffany and Staci had a few more layers than the club leader, though not by much.

"Yeah. My grandfather's coming over. And he shouldn't be."

"Oh. Old people. Bummer."

Quinn still looked chilled.

"You might say he's past old, Tiffany. Way past."

------------------

Someone handed Quinn an armband, but as distracted as she was, she simply put it on and paid no attention to its color or material. The cause for this armband was the subject of a meeting in the Principal's office. Temporary student Buffy Summers was officially greeted.

"Ms. Summers, I am AN-ge-la LI, Prin-ci-pal of LAWNdale Hiiigh. Since I don't have a full copy of your transcript, tell me what school activities you've been involved in during your past school career."

"Well, I...that is, I...used to..."

Daria cut in.

"Buffy here is just too shy for her own good. She was just telling me last night how she participated in the wholesale renovation of her old school's gymnasium. Without her, they wouldn't now have the brand-new gym that's the pride of five counties."

Li smiled in satisfaction.

"Excellent! THAT tells me that even the most temporary of students can bring pride and honor to LAWNdale Hiiigh. Miss Summers, could you repeat that selfsame renovation process here?"

Buffy winced.

"No, that one was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing."

"Ahh, I see. Well, that kind of effort can leave one burnt out. Hmmm. Miss Morgendorfer will need an administrative assistant in her role as lawgiver in our prestigious school experiment. How about you, Miss Summers?"

Buffy tried to back out of this.

"I was really hoping just to get back into the swing of being in high school."

Principal Li drove around her point.

"Fine. Good to have you! Miss Morgendorfer--keep your subjects in line. Order must be maintained!"

As they walked out of the office, Buffy spoke to Daria.

"Gym Renovation? And did that Principal just volunteer me when I said I didn't want the job?"

Daria nodded.

"It's who she is. It's what she does. It's all she knows."

Buffy shook her head as though to clear it.

"I hope I never get a principal like her."

* * *

Jake opened the front door that was being both rung and knocked loudly.

"Damn it, I'm not buying any more magazines!"

The man in front of the door looked like Jake, and looked almost younger than Jake. But his tone and demeanor were not Jake's.

"I found you by looking for the smallest house in a three-block area. Did your wifey forbid you to get a properly sized one? Don't just stand there like an idiot, Jacob! Invite me in."

What Jake knew was happening collided headlong with what he now knew to be impossible. Falling apart at last, he regressed mentally and said the words in a chided, subservient tone of voice.

"Come on in, Dad."

* * *

Daria stood before the hallway full of students. She pointed to Buffy Summers, who was standing behind her.

"I am the Lawndale Lawgiver. Some might call me the Lawngiver, but that would be dumb. This is my enforcer. I call her Snake. Tell them what you do, Snake."

Buffy sneered.

"I kill frogs."

Never losing her near-monotone voice, Daria kept on.

"Don't think she won't do it. She's crazy. One time she shot a man in Reno--just to watch him die."

The assemblage, minus Jodie and Mack, whose parents opted them out, still stood dumbly, so Daria gave her first orders.

"The ups are up, the downs are down, and jokers are wild."

Dressed in a gaudy jester's uniform was Charles Rautheimer, commonly known as UpChuck.

"Say the word, my beauteous dictator, and I will jest my way into your heart."

Daria pointed.

"Snake, kill the frog."

When Buffy punched an already-dented locker with no show of pain, UpChuck pulled back and shut up. Daria looked at Buffy.

"You do this very well."

Buffy shrugged.

"Hey, I was born to be fate's henchwoman. Literally."

Daria resumed her rule-giving.

"Ups, don't abuse your authority, or else your descendants will end up either as angst-ridden liberals or as in-denial chuckling conservatives on some radio talk show. It's not pretty. Downs, keep to your place until such time as you can sell out your fellow downs for a vague promise at acceptance you'll never actually get."

The sea of red and blue armbands dispersed, and Buffy asked Daria a question.

"Daria, about that speech?"

"What, was it too watered-down? Damn. I should have included the part about how I'd play them off each other to keep my hold on power."

-------------------

As the day went by, Daria and Buffy noted people treating them differently. Cheerleader Brittany Taylor, who normally was unencumbered by such burdens as deep thought, was the first to make them aware of this turn. Her voice never changed from its cheery squeak, though.

"Hey, Lawgiver Daria? I've heard rumors of a rebellion among the Ups. Do you want me to keep tabs on them?"

Daria shook her head.

"Brittany--you're one of the Ups. Also, they're already in power, so they have no need to rebel."

"I'm one of them? Coool! That'll make spying way easier!"

Daria anticipated Buffy's question as Brittany left.

"Yes--she is for real."

Buffy watched the receding image of the cheerleader.

"Sure of that, are you?"

--------------

In Ms. Barch's class, Brittany's other half with whom she did not share half a brain between them, Quarterback Kevin Thompson, was receiving more than his usual fair treatment.

"You--you man! You always were nothing, and now, as a Down, you are less than nothing! Go to the back of the class--and then keep right on going till you've dug out the hell my deserter ex-husband deserves to burn in."

Daria did not like Kevin, nor what his very life and undeserved status said about life in high school in general and Lawndale in particular. But a little power, she was learning, went a long way, and also to her head.

"Ms. Barch?"

"Daria, I'm busy right now teaching this Down what happens when the little status that props up his male ego is taken away in one fell swoop!"

Daria actually smiled.

"But I've decided to promote him to being an Up. He took his abuse soooo well, I have decided to grant him this boon. I'm the Lawgiver. I can do this. Now, I believe Ups automatically receive a grade boost commensurate to how low their grades were before."

Misdirected but not vicious, the teacher sat down while giving a warning.

"I will remember this, Daria."

Daria leaned over the desk and whispered.

"Careful. Or I'll marry you two on the spot."

"You---wouldn't."

"You'd make such a cute couple."

Illogic aside, Ms. Barch looked at Kevin, winced, and conducted the rest of her class without incident.

-----------------

As school was winding down for the day, Daria finally saw a familiar face waiting outside.

"Jane? I thought maybe you were sick."

Jane shook her head.

"I just skipped because I've--kind of met a guy. But you can't meet him."

Daria half-smiled.

"You must really like him, then. Oh, this is Buffy Summers. She's at my house for a week."

Jane looked over the pretty new entrant. She pointed.

"You can't meet him either. At least for a year or two."

A mild laugh passed among the three, but this was broken up by sounds from inside the school. Daria looked over.

"Are they fighting in there?"

They went back in, and saw a shockingly resolute UpChuck standing beside Kevin, hockey-sticks held disturbingly near to the members of the Fashion Club, minus Quinn. Sandi's angry protest seemed accentuated by the fact that she wore the armband of a Down. Even her affected accent seemed to vanish.

"You stay back! This section of locker-floor was Club property before the new order began!"

UpChuck showed that not all of his personality was submerged in whatever was going on.

"That deal has been altered. Pray that we don't alter it any further."

Kevin, on the other hand, seemed to fall completely into lock-step.

"The Lawgiver made me an Up. I will be worthy of that honor by keeping you Downs where you belong. Not all of the Fashion Club members are Ups, so it's an illegal organization."

Sandi seemed almost a rebel, now. Daria wondered why she wasn't with whatever dim-bulb celebrity Quinn had gotten grounded over.

"We have rights."

UpChuck shook his head.

"You have what we give you."

Before the hockey-sticks could meet their targets, Buffy grabbed the sticks from the Ups, and then smashed them over her knee.

"Didja ever hear the one where the guy went to a boxing match, and a hockey game broke out?"

Jane seemed to change too, though more subtly.

"Daria, you're the lawgiver. You have to maintain the order."

Still stunned by Buffy's amazing strength, Daria simply did as her best friend requested. With little fights breaking out all over the place, there was no choice.

"Umm…Hear the words of the Lawgiver!"

When everyone stopped what they were doing for as far as she could see, Daria gulped and went for broke.

"Everyone turn your arm-bands inside out. Do it now."

On the inside, all the armbands were green. When they were put back on, Daria kept going, her stomach in knots.

"From now on, there are no Ups, and no Downs. There is only Lawndale High--with your Lawgiver standing above, as always."

Fully expecting everyone to declare this experiment over, Daria instead heard a cry rise up.

"MORGENDORFER! MORGENDORFER! MORGENDORFER! ONE SCHOOL!"

Being congratulated right and left for bringing peace, Daria's skin began to crawl. On their way back out, the three were stopped by Ms. Li.

"Ms. Morgendorfer, this experiment has gone horribly wrong! Are you aware of what you just did?"

Jane stepped forward, again seeming different.

"She gave this school a unity and a sense of direction it has never had before, Principal Li. Do you really wish to stand in the way of something as big as this? We are a wave."

Li nervously backed down, and went into her office. Jane smiled.

"I've received assurances from Mister O'Neill that he'll keep an eye on her for us."

Daria was confused.

"When was this? You just walked in."

Jane looked at the door to Li's office.

"The day may come when the titles of Lawgiver and Principal will have to be...merged."

Snapping out of it without missing a beat, Jane said her goodbyes.

"Anyway, I'll let you know how my date goes, Daria. Nice meeting you, Buffy."

* * *

Daria continued to be so confused by all this, she failed to notice the look of concern and fear that took over Buffy's face. They headed back to the Morgendorfers. Daria saw a shaky Quinn.

"Quinn, if you want to skip, it's none of my business. But if Mom comes down on you, I always catch it so she can bring herself to punish you. So let's at least coordinate our stories."

"Daria, I didn't skip. I disguised myself. Everyone at school was acting so weird. Unity, loyalty---there was even talk of brown school uniforms!"

Quinn looked at Buffy, and stopped shaking.

"Why are you hanging out with someone whose cuteness factor approaches my own?"

While Buffy introduced herself and was flabbergasted at the professional shallowness that was Quinn, Daria puzzled for some reason over something Quinn had said. It seemed to ring a bell.

"Brown uniforms...with green armbands?"

Something ugly began to be put together in Daria's head. But before it could form entirely, her mother found her.

----------------

"Daria, come inside. We're having dinner."

"This early?"

Rather than take exception to the tone of challenge in her daughter's voice, Helen merely explained.

"Yes. So we can get your grandfather out of here. He's driving us all crazy."

Daria went inside, where Buffy was on the phone talking to her mother. Helen guided Daria into the living room, where a crestfallen Jake sat eating crackers and Quinn seemed shakier than ever.

"So you're my granddaughter Daria. You're supposed to be the intelligent, driven outsider. Some of history's best are formed that way. Heh. You even have a worthless father."

The man looked like her father, but he did not look to be in his 70's. Whereas in Jake these same features seemed to indicate helpless rage, in this man they carried cockiness beyond anything Daria had seen. But a look from her mother caught her own rage just in time.

"Hi, Granpa. Let's eat."

Everyone except Quinn made for the dining area. Not looking happy after her talk with her own mother, Buffy saw her sitting, and holding herself.

"Hey, Quinn? Don't you want to have dinner with your grandfather?"

Quinn shook her head.

"No. He's just not supposed to be here."

Buffy nodded.

"He is a jerk. But trust the voice of experience. You can't pick your family."

Quinn jumped up and was in tears.

"No! I mean that he shouldn't be able to come here at all. My Dad's father shouldn't be around."

Buffy felt that sensation she would only later recognize as instinct.

"What are you saying?"

Quinn looked at the dining area.

"As far as I know, Granpa Morgendorfer left before me or Daria were even born."

"Left? He left your grandmother?"

Quinn closed her eyes.

"Buffy--my grandfather is dead."

Buffy tried to calm Quinn. Unfortunately, her own life experience didn't at all preclude what Quinn had just said.

"You mean you wish your grandfather was dead, right?"

Quinn stood up.

"I knew you wouldn't believe me!"

Buffy stopped her from leaving.

"Tell me why you believe what you do about him."

Quinn gulped.

"Okay. It's like I remember countless times that my Mom told my Dad to stop complaining about his father, because he's been dead for twenty years. Then the other day, my Dad and my Mom begin saying that he's coming over. But if he's dead, he can't come over--right?"

Vain and shallow though Quinn was, Buffy absolutely hated lying to her.

"Of...course not. Dead people don't walk around and come to people's houses. That's only in the movies."

She seriously wished.

"Right! But Buffy, I swear that I remember them saying he was dead."

Buffy felt the same chill as she had in Lawndale High earlier that day.

"Quinn--maybe they only told you he was dead, because they don't get along with him."

Buffy was relying on a trick the fallen Watcher Merrick had taught her. Faced with the wholly unbelievable, many people will find whatever explanation, however flimsy, to reconcile that which they cannot simply suppress.

"Hey, my memory's as good as Daria's. I just use it to keep track of important stuff. Like how those jeans do not flatter your tush at all."

Quinn Morgendorfer was not most people. In fact, Buffy was starting to wonder about the people part.

"Quinn, I think that if he's here, he must be alive. Your parents just said he was dead and then forgot to tell you the truth. You know how parents are."

This seemed to turn the key in Quinn's head.

"That would be just like them. I mean, if they can't go a whole week without embarrassing me, then why should I expect them to be able to keep track of the living and the dead? I admire you, Buffy. I wish Daria could be more like you. Filtered heavily through me, of course."

Buffy now wanted to jam a key into Quinn's head.

"Glad to help, Quinn."

* * *

In the dining area, things were deteriorating very quickly. Jake seemed like he was shaking apart.

"I wouldn't call myself a total failure, Dad. Okay, I've had some setbacks."

Henry Morgendorfer's look towards his son could not possibly have held more contempt.

"Not a total failure, Jacob? Then what level of failure are you?"

Helen's face hid her own contempt, but only her courtroom skills kept it out of her voice.

"Jake's not a failure, Henry. He's a good husband and father. The business cycle is just down for consultants, right now."

Henry's gaze passed entirely over Buffy, as though not being kin made her irrelevant. Then again, Buffy saw firsthand how he treated family.

"Helen, Helen. How did I know that the only way my son could ever make it in this world was having a woman who was more man than he could ever be?"

Helen continued to shoot looks at Daria that kept her from spraying back a probably infinite number of sharp retorts at all this. But she should have been looking at Quinn.

"God, Granpa. Maybe if you gave Dad a break once in a while, he wouldn't be so nervous all the time."

Eyes that now seemed more bloodshot than Jake's ever were focused like hellfire on Quinn.

"Shut up, you little idiot. You're just like him. A brain that never gets used."

Where Daria's next words came from, she couldn't say. But they did come.

"Quinn is vice-president of the Fashion Club at our High School. It's very exclusive. I could never get in."

If Quinn was about to follow up on the grudging defense her sister gave, this was cut off by the guest from somewhere that was not heaven.

"Why would you want to, Daria? You're a born leader. Not a starved fool debating cotton versus polyester. She'll be lucky to even be a consultant, like myself. Certainly she'll never know our level of success."

Jake managed to ask a question.

"When did you become a consultant, Dad?"

Henry grinned and shot Jake another acid look.

"When I learned that any idiot can do the job, Jacob."

When neither Daria nor her mother spoke, Quinn stood up.

"I--like my Dad. He's not an idiot."

Jake looked over in horror.

"Quinn-honey---you mustn't upset Granpa."

But Henry only looked at Helen.

"Why isn't that little fool in some sort of remedial school? Or do you two let that idiot box in the living room raise her?"

Quinn left then, not even bothering to hide her tears. Buffy saw no one get up to go after her. Quickly, she reached for the salt shaker and kept ready. Daria looked ready to explode.

"So, Granpa--what kind of consulting work do you do?"

"Just one job right now, kiddo. I'm the consultant on your school's little experiment in leadership and unity."

Helen puzzled at this reference.

"I thought it was an experiment in defeating stereotypes and showing the evils of dictatorship."

Henry smiled yet again.

"It was. But your daughter altered it. Daria, tell them how you made everyone wear the same armbands. How you eliminated the Ups and the Downs."

Jake looked at Daria.

"Honey, doesn't that defeat the purpose of the experiment?"

Daria was cut off by Henry, just like everyone else.

"Actually, Jacob, I was waiting for her to do just that. I predicted it. That's what a good consultant does. I guess that makes you afraid your old man will beat you at your own worthless game. Aren't you afraid of me, Jacob?"

Jake left to go upstairs, and Henry's sarcastic snorts followed him every step of the way. Helen was still not herself.

"Henry, was that at all necessary? Isn't it obvious by now that Jake can't handle your--extreme sense of humor?"

Henry was looking upstairs, still just as derisively.

"I tried so hard to make him a man. I told him what I had to do. I had his friends, teachers, and the officials at the Military Academy watch him like a hawk. I even used clever tricks, when I saw the opportunity. All for nothing."

Helen got up.

"I have to comfort my husband and my daughter. Buffy--I'm sorry that a guest had to see a scene like this."

Helen Barksdale Morgendorfer was indeed a very strong individual. But her gait suggested withdrawal from a nasty defeat. When a door upstairs closed, Daria rose from the table, and made her feelings very, very plain to the still-grinning man in front of her.

"Get the hell out of my house, and don't ever come back."

* * *

A couple of towns over, Jane and her date enjoyed a new nightclub. Oz was chuckling.

"Until I met your brother, I thought I was sleepy-eyed! Hey, Jane? Is something wrong? Do you want to go back to Lawndale?"

Jane felt a call inside her. A cry to return where she belonged. It was scaring her. So she squeezed her date's hand.

"Nope. We'll stay here late. Very late. Lawndale--is not somewhere I wanna be, just now."

This was a lie, and this was the truth.

* * *

Henry was still smiling.

"I'm not going anywhere, Daria. We have to discuss your role as Lawndale High's lawgiver. You'll have to work of course to overcome the weakness of your gender, but still we can build the start of very great things in your little school."

Buffy finally spoke.

"You know, Mister Morgendorfer? I felt the cushion in the living room chair you were using, not five minutes after you were sitting in it. It was cold. Not hot, not warm, not neutral. But freezing cold. I also noticed you didn't touch your salt pork."

Henry suddenly threw a steak knife straight at Buffy's head, but she knocked it away with her plate. She also tossed Daria the salt shaker.

"Daria, don't you have a book on Zuvembi legends? Me, I'm not big on books. But it had a lot to say about salt."

Daria looked stunned as her memory returned. She smiled her smallish smile, and uncapped the salt shaker.

"You are a bully who made himself feel big by picking on a little boy that worshipped you."

Tossing the salt onto an enraged Henry, Daria was pulled away by Buffy as he began to burn and smoke. The decaying thing pointed at them.

"Damn You, Slayer! This isn't over. Daria--you will choose me! Your school already has."

The walking corpse shambled out, and Daria sat down.

"What the hell was he, and why'd he call me Slayer?"

Buffy sighed.

"Daria--ready for one of those long stories?"

* * *

About an hour later, the two had finished over cocoa. Daria nodded.

"I had kind of noticed you were strong. But all that demon stuff is real?"

"You saw your 'grandfather'. I wonder if he'll show up at your school?"

Daria shrugged.

"I think that bunch will even notice a walking corpse. This whole thing makes me glad I blew off the rally tonight."

Buffy looked at her.

"Rally?"

"For this stupid experiment. I decided to let the lawgiver take the night off. My revenge on the Jodi-Li-Mom Axis."

Buffy put her hand to her head.

"Daria, he said your school had already chosen him. You saw how they were all obeying you, chanting 'Morgendorfer'. What if he makes himself Lawgiver?"

Daria put down her cocoa mug.

"Can he do that?"

Both hurried out, hoping against hope that they weren't too late. Daria looked about as they ran.

"It's not even eight. Where are all the kids?"

Buffy held herself back to keep pace.

"Daria, I'm not good with history. But don't green armbands and brown uniforms mean something?"

They stopped in front of the high school. Daria responded to Buffy's question.

"Yeah, they do. They mean that."

The US Flag was gone, replaced by a banner with a field of red with a four-pronged inverted cross at its center. Buffy grabbed herself.

"Crap."

* * *

Daria tried her best to quip away the horror embodied by the flag they now saw.

"Maybe it's not what we think. Maybe Ms. Li is just letting the school be used to film a Hogan's Heroes reunion movie."

"Daria--the guy who played Hogan is dead."

"So's my grandfather."

She gingerly opened the door.

"So are we."

Back at the Morgendorfer home, Jake saw Helen still wiping Quinn's tears.

"It wasn't like when Daria calls me stupid. It hurt. Mom, why is he like that?"

Jake started walking downstairs, still shaking but now quite determined. He grabbed his car keys and went outside. He started to drive to Lawndale High.

"You made my little girl cry, you heartless bastard."

* * *

Inside the auditorium, hidden behind some support pillars, Daria and Buffy saw a scene that worried both practiced cynic and still-new Slayer.

"They're not as glassy-eyed as usual."

Buffy nodded.

"They look pretty determined. Usually, you don't see that kind of look outside of vamps."

Daria winced inside at being reminded that such creatures were real.

"Listen. I'll approach the stage and do my usual routine. You go backstage and--do whatever it is you do to somebody who's already dead."

"Good thinking. I saw an axe outside, next to the fire hose."

As Buffy snuck out, Daria looked out again at the crowd of her classmates. Upchuck looked fiercely determined, and his eyes were locked on the speech-giving Henry Morgendorfer as though he were Pamela Anderson. Kevin and Brittany actually looked relaxed, as though equality had removed the need to worry about how cool they were. The sweet-but-weird Ted from the yearbook staff looked on with eyes wide, as though he were learning one of the few lessons he didn't already know. Each in their own way, the people Daria knew were wholly in the grip of a message that sounded all too familiar. Again sounding very much like and nothing at all like her Dad, Henry Morgendorfer was loudly addressing the various brown-shirts, skirts and trousers.

"There will be a purpose to it all! There will be a direction again! You will be relieved forever of the need to worry over whether or not you are good enough. If you choose to belong, and if you are accepted, then you are forever accepted! These things will not be decided by groups of varied and conflicting narrow interests."

Daria took her cue after this, the tenth such vague recitation she'd heard since entering the room. She started down the path to the stage, uncertain if she would be attacked, and trying not to think about it.

"No. Instead, it will all be decided by one uncommonly obnoxious outsider. That is, until we can start excluding the wrong people. Then we can empower the bullies and the thugs, and get a real intellectual jamboree going. That flag you're waving isn't known for either tolerance or acceptance. It's known mainly for death."

Daria thought certain that Henry would direct his zombies to attack the traitorous former lawgiver. But as she was to learn that day, evil was both real and very tricky.

"My granddaughter is correct. It will all be decided by an uncommonly obnoxious outsider, Daria. The intense outsider is always best suited to tear away the weaknesses of a corrupt society that has fallen apart. Society should be tied together, like a bundle of sticks."

He gestured, and several students brought Buffy out.

"Your Slayer friend is strong, Daria. But with my power, each student possesses the strength of all students. Like a bundle of bound sticks, they cannot be broken by one set of hands."

Daria looked at Buffy. Maybe she could have gotten away from her captors, but how far would either of them get in this place?

"Suppose someone sets that bundle of sticks on fire, Granpa? Then they all burn. And let's be honest, Ok? The intense outsider running things would be you, right?"

Henry shook his head.

"No, Daria. It would be you. Say what you know to be true of my condition."

"Okay. You're dead. You've been dead for twenty years."

He smiled.

"Exactly. My time here is done. I only came back to get this country back on the right track. But I'm dead, and the special conditions that let me come back will expire soon. I need an heir, Daria. That heir is you."

Buffy immediately felt a chill.

"Daria, don't listen to him! His voice can hypnotize you!"

"But do listen, Daria. Think about it. Think well about a world where you call the shots. No more idiots telling you to be deliriously happy when a new mall opens, or calling you a freak for actually daring to think that the world is not in great shape. No more suffering fools that do none of the work and claim all of the credit. The canceling of the blind luck that favors the anti-learning forces of this world. You could ensure that art is not a slave to little bureaucrats and their weak-kneed enforcers."

Buffy saw Daria approach Henry.

"Daria, push him off the stage. I'll break free, and then we can..."

But whatever plan Buffy had fell away to nothing as Daria grasped her grandfather's hand, and nodded.

"You were right. I chose you. I'm sorry, Buffy. But I've battled this world and all its rules for as long as I can remember. I'm tired. It always wins. Whenever I think I've figured it out, the rules twist back again to favor those already in, and then leave me further out. Who needs that? I know what power does to people. But I'll be different. It'll all be different. And Lawndale will be just the start."

The mob suddenly lit up with one cry as Henry raised their arms together.

"Daria! DARIA! DARIA!!DARIA!!!"

But from behind Henry, another set of hands separated Daria from the undead man. This new man pointed.

"Stay the hell away from my daughter, old man!"

* * *

It was Jake. As Daria shook off her stunned grandfather's influence, Henry tried to grasp her once again, but Jake stood between them, holding a satchel.

"Just what part didn't you understand, Dad? Now get out! It's over."

Daria was hearing a very different man than the one she knew. Gone was the nervous tension, and the waves of self-doubt.

"Dad?"

Jake turned and smiled at her.

"Don't worry, pumpkin. He's always been very good at making people want his approval. He suckered me like that on more occasions than I can count."

Henry tried to grasp Daria yet again, but Jake kept running interference.

"Jacob! Get out of my way, or so help me, I'll teach you the meaning of real fear!"

Jake was again not sounding himself. Daria almost sensed a trace of herself in him. He would not yield.

"Dad, as my family will no doubt tell you, I am afraid of everything and everyone on this planet. But I am not afraid of you. You're just a dead thing that's trying to live on in the body of his own granddaughter. That's just a guess of course. But somehow I don't see you just giving that kind of power away."

Henry smiled, pulling back.

"You know nothing of my power. Jacob, you were born a weakling, and you've only grown weaker still as time's gone by."

Daria watched, still queasy, as Jake held up his satchel.

"I gotcha power, right here. Hey, Buffy? Did that stuff you and Daria talked about in the kitchen include you having super strength?"

Still trying to break from her confused captors, Buffy nodded.

"Err…yes, Mister Morgendorfer."

Jake slid the satchel right by her feet.

"There's a bunch of goblets, amulets and I-don't-knows in there. Where'd you get them Dad? Scavenging in Berlin after WW2? I found them, years ago, helping Mom clean up after your funeral. But since I don't have time to play Indiana Jones, Buffy, if you would?"

The Slayer threw off the arms holding her, and before they could re-grasp her, she jumped up and onto the satchel. There was a loud crunch. Henry screamed.

"Those were from Himmler and Goebbels' personal collections! You little idiot! You've ruined everything!"

Jake smiled again.

"Two things, Dad. One, any plan for supreme power that depends on some destructible artifacts is not the work of a master planner, but a master nerd. Two---"

Jake shoved him off the stage, and Henry hit the floor hard.

"You were a lousy father."

Henry rose, and began to transform, growing larger and less human in appearance. Buffy's former captors ran off. The audience was still transfixed. Buffy shook her head.

"Mmm-hmm. I saw this coming."

* * *

Daria was not surprised that the monster scared her. She was surprised that it didn't seem to scare her father.

"Dad? Doesn't that thing frighten you?"

"Sort-of, honey. But then again, this is pretty much how I've always seen your grandfather, anyway."

By now, Henry looked like a walking bog, and cried out in a voice no longer anything like Jake's.

"You idiots! This country fought on the wrong side during that war! It's become weak and worthless. We could have adopted their strength without the mass murder. But now it's all coming down! I'll start a sinkhole that will take us all where you're headed, anyway!"

Buffy smiled, walked over to an American flag, and popped it out of its holder. She threw the pole-end at Henry's head, where a sickening plop was heard.

"Hey, Mister Horrible Dinner-Guest? Evil is always evil--and these colors don't run. They just pulp your brain."

As the monster dissolved at last, Jake caught Buffy's weapon before it hit the ground.

"Not on my watch. Daria? No pressure, honey. But you have about one minute before your lawgiver power fades out entirely, and before that happens, you kinda have to undo all the garbage your granpa fed those kids."

Daria gulped.

"No pressure. Yeah, right. Everyone--I will soon resign as your lawgiver. But before that happens, repeat after me---We The People Of The United States, In Order To Form A More Perfect Union, Establish Justice, Ensure Domestic Tranquility, Provide For The Common Defense, Promote The General Welfare And Secure The Blessings Of Liberty To Ourselves And Our Posterity, Do Ordain And Establish This Constitution For The United States Of America. Now is the time to make real the dream of democracy. From every mountainside, let freedom ring. Now ends the age of the tyrant. I resign."

* * *

There were no more cheers as she walked offstage, but Daria didn't want them. She looked at Buffy.

"Go ahead. Call me a big-talking sellout. I was ready to flush it all away. I didn't even try to fight him."

Buffy shook her head.

"Daria, total mass acceptance is like society's virtual version of crack cocaine. When I first became the Slayer, all my friends in LA said I had turned weird and got away from me. Then, they offered to take me back for a price or two. But whether it's always acting happy or your soul--the price is always too high. And they'll always want more."

"Hey. Where's my Dad?"

The two saw Jake arguing with Principal Li.

"MISTER Morgendorfer! Your daughter was supposed to stay in that role for an entire week. It has barely been three days. I have no choice but to fail her. She has never been a team player, and we need team players here at LAWNdale Hi-gh."

Jake nodded.

"Okay, Principal Li. I'll accept that. But--um--just what happened here tonight?"

The second-worst principal Buffy would ever meet seemed confused by this question.

"What happened? Well, I...that is to say...and the consultant we hired..."

Daria saw this.

"Why's her memory going away?"

Buffy guessed.

"People don't like to remember things like this. Upsets the apple-cart of what they know as reality."

Li shrugged.

"Well, I must admit that I am not entirely sure of this evening's proceedings. But that still does not excuse your daughter ducking her responsibilities. That is not something we can tolerate here at LAWN-dale High."

Jake spoke to Li in a low whisper.

"I'll tell you what. You give my daughter the A she deserves, and I won't tell the superintendent that you failed to attend an important rally."

"But I did attend it! You saw me!"

"But if you were there, then why can't you tell me or the school board what happened?"

Li's look was priceless.

"I believe that the purpose of this experiment was largely fulfilled. Daria will of course receive an A, having served her school in the finest tradition of LAWN-dale High."

-----------------

Deflated and defeated, Principal Li withdrew as did much of a confused student body. Jake turned to Daria.

"This is where I say goodbye, kiddo."

Daria shook her head.

"What do you mean, goodbye? Where are you going?"

He led the two girls to his car, and then sat down on the hood.

"See, Daria--I'm not your father. I mean, Jake Morgendorfer is your father. But I'm not the Jake you've always known."

"Huh?"

"See, when your grandfather used those mystic things to cross back from whatever hell he's in, he opened more than one doorway. I'm less of a person than a possibility. I'm who your Dad could have been, with a father who wasn't afraid to maybe have his son outshine him one day. But your Dad wants you girls to succeed. He's a good man. I had to swim up through his fears, but some of those will start to fade at last, now that Henry's been put back down."

Daria actually looked sad.

"Will I ever see you again?"

Jake handed her a videotape.

"I snuck into your school's AV lab and made this. Show it to your Dad in a few years. It may just help him. Trust me."

Jake sat down inside the car, and seemed briefly to glow. He then looked at Daria and Buffy as they got in and he drove away.

"Hey! How'd the rally go? Ya know, I never liked rallies. I could never figure out what they actually accomplished."

Daria actually felt relieved that the father she knew was back, at least for now.

"The forces of Hell were turned back at great cost. Lawndale is now no more."

Buffy felt odd about that joke, but couldn't say why. Jake responded.

"Forces of Hell? Was my father there?"

Buffy responded.

"The frog-killer got him."

Jake kept driving.

"Since I don't have a prayer of understanding these jokes, how about we stop for a pizza on the way home. Anyone mind fresh garlic as a topping?"

* * *

Oz looked angrily at Trent.

"Dude, you were three hours late for rehearsal."

Trent shook his head.

"Is that too early for you?"

Oz rolled his eyes.

"You know, some people actually show up within one hour of the agreed-upon time?"

Trent's eyes went wide.

"One hour?"

His band-mate shuddered.

"Trent, he's on some kind of Amish work-ethic or something!"

Oz walked downstairs not long after. Jane easily guessed what had happened.

"Hey, I'm sorry. But life with brother is a lot like that."

Oz looked at her.

"Jane, you are a seriously great girl."

Jane felt a chill.

"I'm not great. I'm horrid. I stink. I'm caustic and bitter."

Oz shrugged.

"You are just so awesome. You're so creative."

Jane pleaded with him.

"Please--please don't compliment me any more."

"Any guy'd be lucky to have someone like you..."

Jane could no longer speak. She knew what was coming.

"But I've always had a certain kind of girl as my ideal. She's--"

*Not Daria*, thought Jane.

"Brainy-type...puts people off a bit as a shield. But really worth getting to know. Lone wolf, really intense inside...hey, you wouldn't know anyone like that, would you?"

* * *

Oz was soon on the road out of Lawndale, and when Jane next saw Daria, her words were puzzling.

"Well, you did it to me again--pal!"

Daria chose to ignore her for the moment, when she saw the returned Jodie leave a class.

"Hey, Daria? What happened with the experiment? No one seems to be able to talk about it."

Daria sensed her moment.

"A secret government project hidden beneath the park campgrounds has sworn us all to secrecy. They installed a chip in UpChuck's head to keep him in line. If he acts at all like himself, he feels intense pain."

"Would you please just tell me?"

Daria shook her head.

"I can't right now, Jodie. I have to go tell your Mom and Dad about how I'm worried for you. You've been going on and on about how having so much free time is driving you batty."

Jodie gulped.

"You wouldn't."

"Not right now. But next time you kick me out of the lifeboat--I'll drill holes before I drown."

"All right, I promise not to do it to you again. You know, Daria? I'm glad you treat me just like you do everyone else--but could you maybe sometimes cut me some preferential treatment?"

Daria grinned.

"I'll talk the subject over with your Dad. What political party does he belong to again? Starts with an R---"

Jodie walked away.

"You're evil."

* * *

That Saturday, Buffy had begun to pack, expecting her mother. Downstairs, Quinn met with a decidedly hostile Fashion Club.

"We-ll, Qui-nn. Have you de-cided to be smart and recant your oh-so hasty words?"

Something in the Morgendorfer sisters' personalities had not allowed them to forget all the bizarre events of the last few days. Quinn was still reeling from the vicious insults of her undead grandfather.

"Even if I wanted to, Sandi, what's the point? Everybody heard me say them."

Sandi sneered, half-enraged that Quinn was not giving in, half-elated that she would be put down so hard in front of everyone that mattered.

"It was a stu-pid thing to say, Qu-inn. But then again, maybe you are just plain stu-pid yourself."

When Quinn could not seem to form the words for a comeback, a surprising ally intervened on her behalf. Hearing a knock on the door, Staci answered and allowed in Cordelia Chase, returned to the area to pass final judgment on the Lawndale Fashion Club. All witnessed Daria stomp over and stand in front of Sandi.

"Hi? Remember me? I'm Quinn's very weird, highly unpopular cousin-or-whatever. But if I ever hear you call her stupid again---I will wander the halls of our high school and tell everyone I can find that I am, in fact, YOUR cousin--or whatever. Understand? No one calls Quinn stupid but me."

Sandi was gasping for breath at the mere thought of what such a rumor would do to her social standing. Daria went upstairs, her head turning only slightly to catch Quinn's half-hidden look of gratitude. She did not hear Cordelia Chase's words at all as she looked on.

"Hmmm. Well, obviously, she's a fashion nightmare. But then again---"

Cordelia looked at a still-shuddering Sandi.

"--she does seem to know how to verbally shred someone in mere moments. Now *that's* a skill worth having, no matter who you happen to be."

Sandi tried to regain her ground.

"But we shred people all the time, Ms. Chase."

"I'm sure you do, dear. I'm sure you do. Now, before I make my pronouncement, does anyone have anything to add?"

Not knowing when to quit, Sandi pointed at Quinn.

"I think it should be known that Qui-nn here thinks that we of the Fashion Club ought not to judged by someone like you."

Chase looked surprised.

"Is this true?"

Staci nodded nervously.

"She did say it."

Tiffany answered.

"I nearly screamed my head off when she said that."

"Uhhh..yeah. Screamed. Quinn, is what they're saying true?"

Quinn stood up.

"I have nothing but respect for you and all you've given and will give the realms of fashion, Cordelia. But--if our Club is unworthy, you can't make us worthy. And if we are good enough, then we are good enough, no matter what. Either you have true fashion sense or you don't."

Chase nodded.

"I couldn't agree more."

Sandi's eyes were saucers.

"What? But she just rejected your authority and standing. She just blew off your supremacy in all things fashionable."

Cordelia shrugged.

"That's the mark of a true fashion queen. To hold to certain standards while not caring what others believe. Fashion must be adhered to, and your little club does that well enough, I suppose. But the rest of it is attitude. Attitude that--has guys fighting over buying you a soda. Attitude that just has life flow your way because that's the way it is."

Staci almost shrieked.

"But we have attitude. WE HAVE soooo much attitude!"

Tiffany gulped.

"Really. We do. You can ask people."

Cordelia walked towards the door.

"Please. You all want it too badly. Plus, I had my eye on Quinn from the start. Hey, Quinn? How much of your stuff did your Mom return?"

"All of it. And she took my card."

Cordelia high-fived her.

"That's my girl! Always gamble big."

Quinn nodded.

"Because it makes all future purchases seem tolerable by comparison. I always think long-term."

Cordelia walked out the door.

"I'm only sorry we have to do an up-or-down on the whole club. Oh. Here's my card, Quinn. In case of emergency fashion consultations, we can contact each other."

She looked at Sandi.

"And don't go giving it out, okay?"

The meeting dissolved shortly thereafter. Sandi had already dissolved.

* * *

As Joyce Summers pulled up outside the Morgendorfers later that day, Helen was there to greet her, and to ask several questions about things that didn't seem to fit.

"Thanks again for taking her, Helen. She was giving off such an attitude. Has she been trouble for you?"

Helen bypassed this for the moment.

"Joyce--just where do we first know each other from?"

Joyce smiled.

"The Peacestar Commune, 1973."

Helen didn't smile.

"I checked. Jake and I were never anyone near that commune."

Joyce shook her head.

"Then--the Dump Nixon Protest, 1974. Had to be. I remember you and Jake had these---"

"I remember me and Jake, too. We actually got arrested for trying to broach the grounds of Camp David. We didn't reach Washington."

Joyce shrugged.

"Well, I just left my daughter with you for a week. I think we must know each other."

Helen looked at her new PDA.

"As near as I can tell, we have five major clients in common for our respective businesses. Somehow, a few of them gave us each other's names, which then got shifted from the back of our rolodexes to the personal file near the front. We don't know each other. We never have."

Joyce's face went pale.

"But that would mean that I left my daughter with total strangers."

Helen then went where she really shouldn't have gone.

"Yes. Well, that appears to be something of a trend, doesn't it? Joyce, I'm an attorney. Are you aware that nowadays, many parents are being persuaded by substandard psychologists to treat mental health facilities as substitutes for oh, say--grounding and other more rational means of dealing with teenagers?"

Joyce's buttons were now firmly pressed.

"Just what are you getting at? Did Buffy do something? If she did, I'll pay for it."

Helen felt in her zone, whether she was or not.

"Buffy is a terrific kid. One I'd be very happy to have either of my daughters emulate. I have not seen one trace of the hellion you hinted at when you left her here."

"She didn't understand that we did it for her own good!"

Helen rolled her eyes.

"Kids and their attitudes towards unjust sudden imprisonment. Go figure."

Joyce pointed.

"You know, you took a total stranger into your house, genius! And how dare you lecture me on how to take care of my daughter? I don't need your grief. I am going to have a hard enough time living in a new town while handling my divorce proceedings."

"A divorce you'll no doubt blame on your daughter as well."

Joyce was now fuming.

"I spoke to your little angels on the phone. One of them sounded like a walking glossy insert from a teen fashion magazine, and the other sounded like she should have been fed Prozac In Utero!"

"Control Freak!"

"Know-It-All!"

Push had come to shove, so the two began pushing and shoving as a police patrol car spotted them. Things went downhill from there. And they just kept on going.

* * *

In her room, Daria was watching a little TV.

*Timmy was a high schooler ignored by absolutely everyone he knew until he faded from sight entirely. Now he's a top government assassin, and you'll never see him coming--Next on Sick, Sad World.*

She clicked it off.

"Where do they get this stuff?"

Buffy walked in.

"Daria, did my Mom call? Its not like her to be this late. Oh, and your Dad's downstairs. I think he lost another client."

* * *

Quinn and Jane were downstairs in the kitchen, with the artist trying to reconstruct Quinn's face on canvas using gummy bears. Daria thought about her father's plight, and pulled out a hidden video tape.

"A couple of years can pass so quickly."

Downstairs, Jake recoiled at what the tape apparently held.

"You did what?"

"It's a transfer I made of an old film I found, made by your father. Dad--I really think you should watch it."

Jake shrugged, and put it into the VCR.

"Okay. But will you watch it with me?"

Daria sat down.

"Wouldn't miss it."

The tape began to play, and a man that Jake would never realize was another part of himself played the part of Henry Morgendorfer. His words were like manna to Jake's nervous soul.

*Jake, I'm so sorry for how I treated you. I spent so much time being afraid that my son would outshine me, I failed to celebrate how great a man he grew up to be. Forget the head-games of a stupid old man, Jake. Someday, you'll be a father, and I know you'll be one of the best. I know you'll raise two great gi--great kids. You're a better man than I'll ever be, son.*

Jake was dumbfounded by what he heard. But then he pointed.

"Hey! Why is the Lawndale High logo in back of him?"

Daria mumbled.

"Great going, alternate Dad."

Jake pulled out the tape.

"Daria--this must be recorded over one of your school functions. We need a batch of fresh tapes."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Daria tried to change the subject.

"Guess you feel pretty good, huh? I mean with Granpa's long-lost apology."

Jake sat down and shrugged.

"I still don't think I can forgive him for everything. Heh. Knowing me, it'll probably take a few years before what he said sinks in, anyway. But it's a start."

"Why? What can't you forgive him for?"

Jake hesitated, then spoke.

"Oh, you're old enough to know. Daria, your Granpa ran around on your grandmother with two different women. He had a daughter by each of them."

Daria was surprised.

"You have two half-sisters?"

Jake nodded.

"Now, you know I'm not a snob, Daria--but those two girls took white trashiness to a new low. Idiots. Nothing like you and your sister and Helen. I eventually sought restraining orders to get rid of them. Well, they ended up getting knocked up by some bikers, and they each had a son. I never met either of them--but I've heard tell that those boys are the biggest idiots you will ever meet. Two world-class morons, prone to laugh at the most inane, sickening things."

Daria now felt sick to her stomach.

"Oh--No. God, No. Not that. Not them."

Jake saw his daughter's distress.

"You look down, kiddo. What do you say we head to the Mall Of The Millennium? I hear they have a new poster shop that some community groups want to close."

Daria would, in the course of the next few years, see more and more of the father she had met so briefly.

"Let's ditch this popsicle stand."

Jake looked around.

"Hmm. Now where is your mother?"

Buffy walked down.

"Has anyone seen or heard from my Mom?"

Jane emerged from the kitchen with Quinn. Jane whispered to Daria.

"I put the gummy-bear portrait of her outside. It should be ant-infested by nightfall."

"You're a true friend."

"Hey, you're the one who let me out of that rally."

Quinn raised a finger.

"I think Mom said something about being there when Buffy's mom arrives. Maybe she went to pick her up."

Jake threw on his coat.

"Well, they could be hours. Girls, I promise not to look at your purchases if you leave me be in the food court without snitching to your Mom."

While the Mall Of The Millennium was hardly Daria's favorite place, she was anxious to see which of its hundreds of stores had closed down first.

"It's a deal."

Buffy nodded.

"My Mom's the stickler for being on time. And I was ready when she said. Auntie Anne's, anyone?"

* * *

Ten minutes after they had left, a call came on the Morgendorfers' answering machine.

*Mister Morgendorfer? This is Sergeant Anderson, Lawndale PD. Sir, we are currently holding in custody your wife, Helen, and a Mrs. Joyce Summers. They engaged in an altercation, which they continued at the station, then in front of the judge. The judge has ordered them both to be held overnight for psychiatric observation. You can visit them in the morning…Hey!*

*Jake? Come down immediately and get me out of here. This woman is a dimbulb!*

*Buffy, contact your father. We are suing these people for everything they have.*

*No. You'll try to sue us. You'll fail.*

*People like you give lawyers a worse name...*

*Ladies, put the receiver down. Mrs. Morgendorfer--the cord is not to be used as a strangulation device. Mrs. Summers---Mrs. Summers, DO NOT hit Mrs. Morgendorfer with the pho...*

THE END


End file.
